Champagne. The scent of Calvin Klein lingering in the air. A
trill of laughter echoing through the crowded flat. It was New
Years Eve and a collection of pale marbled skins rippled through
the rooms, poured through the ever so slightly too small door and
placed themselves like poorly crafted statues dispersed between
the kitchen, balcony and living room. There was shimmer of
sequins glittering off of the polished surfaces and the heavy
influx of newly bought fairy lights made the flat almost
unbearable to gaze at. Each clanking of 4-inch heels and the
squeaking of leather size 10 ½ shoes made Adam wince. He took a
swig of some unpleasantly warm Stella, which clung to his throat
as if caught in a spider's web. Instead of disregarding the now
finished bottle, his hand grasped the shabby glass holding onto
its comfort. Adam's eyes roamed the insufferable party only to
catch hold of a dull coal surrounded by fashionable diamonds. She
was wearing a faded black dress which was clearly too big for
her, her legs were of the palest white and her feet remained
bare. Adam could see however, the red indent on her ankle where a
strap of an exceedingly uncomfortable pair of high-heeled shoes
had once sat. She was not speaking, nor did her facial expression
change or were her cheeks pulled up into a crease of emotion; she
was exceptionally human compared to the other mechanical men and
women faking their way through this generic celebration.

Still clinging to his long finished beer, Adam moved slowly
towards another human being. He pushed and elbowed his way
through the crowd, no one bothering to politely step out of his
way but instead pushing against Adam, almost hindering his
attempt to grasp life. His shoes - thankfully- did not squeak and
were of an abnormally small size 7 which he felt neither glad nor
irritated by. About a foot away from the other human, Adam felt a
heat rising from the sensitive flesh underhis toe nails, up past
his untoned claves and it flowed right up to his ears which now
resembled a fire engine red. The unnecessary warmth was decidedly
uncomfortable and already he began to emit a mild nauseating
stench. His nostrils twitched. He took off his clean-cut suit
jacket and rested it over his arm. Adam began to cool. As fast as
the smell had arisen it disappeared and with a loud inhale of
smoky air he was once again calm.

Adam finally glided over to where she was standing and positioned
himself very close next to her left shoulder. He began laughing
at her friends' jokes although his fellow human produced not a
pulse of life. She did not even glance at him. Her eyes were
fixed on her own reflection in her mechanical friend's glasses.
Adam tried leaning into her slightly, breathing more softly,
smiling more gently, his eyes walking around her expressionless
face. But nothing. He could feel the chill of her skin and her
rigidness; not even his excruciating warmth, which had now
resurfaced, could burn away her layer of thickened ice.

Without one look at Adam, she took hold of her friend's arm and
walked out of the room. He stood there in an unyielding sense of
defeat. Was he really so easy to ignore? Had he made no
impression at all? No. He had not. He hung his head lowly and
miserably trudged to the balcony and leaned over the railing. So
many lights danced and floated about the ink stained night and as
he reached out to touch one it escaped; just as she, the human,
had done so. Perhaps he had been wrong, he had been wrong so many
times before after all. Adam had looked for almost a year, for
somebody who was not blinded by his or her own sight but his
search had been fruitless.

He had opened a box 363 days ago, and inside that rotting box
seeped out a mask of invisibility. That was the day he
disappeared and no one, not even the machines, have seen him
since.